Short Story: The Plague Of D-Block

Good Morning, it is with great pleasure that I write this letter of support for Orion Edwards in his application for the University of Guelph McKendry-Baker Memorial Scholarship.

There is so many different design elements on this building that just when you think you saw them all you are surprise by something new, something so obvious that you don’t know how you could overlook in the first place. But there is nothing chaotic about the placement of the individual architectural elements. And there

He walked past the fried eyeballs and frozen thumbs; past the piles and piles of lab equipment and "experiments" and God knows what else. He placed a hand on the refrigerator door, contemplating whether or not it was safe to venture into the unknown depths of the ice box. The last time he had braved such a fate, he was met by a severed head, seemingly gazing lifelessly back into his soul. John's stomach growled and he took in a deep breath, deciding it was worth it. He was starving.

The small flashlight I hold under my gun does little to illuminate the room. I glance around the room, quickly taking in the rusted machinery and twisted pieces of metal; broken glass crunches beneath my feet. What’s left of the windows have been boarded up, causing the near blinding blackness. Rats scurry across the cavernous space, no doubt resenting our abrupt intrusion.

Also, another claim that these structures were used as store food aupplies, is rejected by the narrator. Indeed, in this building there are no remainig grain maize on the floor. In addition, the storing grains must be kept in the big containers; but, like remaining grain there are not any big containers

He felt his hand involuntarily retreat witha jerk, knocking over a milk carton. A vision began to flash before him of the time he had accidentally came into direct contact the bloody butchers knife in an attempt to clean it off. The feel of the cold, wet, sticky metal was all too familiar. Another epiphany lifted him from the gravitational pull of his logical mind and seemed to sit him on a rusty throne of dead thoughts, and ideas as images of him coming into contact with that same cold metal before, and of him laughing in a maniacal manner as more and more blood appeared on the object. Forcing himself back into the warm comfort of reality Kai quickly dismissed the encounter with his own subconcious as a mere daydream or the product of a wild imagination and way to many horror movies. On his way out of the kitchen Kai called to his brother, who failed to answer and justsat there with a zombified gaze plastered on his face. With a shake of the headand a sigh Kai exited the kitchen into the living

Sand colored walls box the room in and the texture feels like sand too. The small room is sparsely decorated with a few posters and pictures. A small dry erase board hovers above a desk covered in training documents and other important papers. Two file cabinets stand next to the desk like two rising towers. A long antiquated wooden table stretches the length of the room with a hodgepodge of chairs lining it. The room doesn’t scream luxury but that doesn’t hide the fact that many strenuous decisions have been made in here. Across the hall sits the turnout room. Cubby holes made of wood packed with turnout gear line the room and a lone metal chair sits against the front wall. The smell of burnt materials and sweat, leftovers from previous encounters engulf the room. Although much smaller than the meeting room, the size of the room shows no importance to the significance of the room.

Greek Mythology is very well known throughout the world, but did you know that there are hundreds of different mythologies? You might have heard of Roman Mythology, however have you heard of Korean or Egyptian Mythology? Around the world mythology is used to tell stories while also having an important mission.

Ike crossed his arms and leaned against the pallid plaster wall behind the pharmacy counter. He checked his watch with a scowl and continued to listlessly fan himself. Glaring in dismay at the broken air conditioner, stacked on top of the chipped wooden window sill, Ike cursed the sticky heat under his breath. The pastel posters that complemented the chalk blue walls to the lounge were ripped along the corners and stained from years of negligence to decoration. Ike swung his legs over the countertop and hopped to the floor, his heels clicked against the dull linoleum tiles. Sauntering to the center of the lobby, a whiff of humid air and the stench of something moldy and rotting caught Ike’s attention. Distracted by the putrid odor, the young

Passing Memorial Union, Lincoln Hall was seen over there along a straight road. Approaching it, I saw many people who wore a muddy white T-shirt and jeans dig up the earth with shovels. Actually, there might be other people to do other things, but people I could recognize were only them digging holes; because the white road I was walking on was dirty with brown mud. The dormitory was under construction although some students already started to live there. I wondered whether it would be finished until fall semester started. Finally, I managed to got there, and stand in front of the big grass door. Pulling the silver knob, entering into Lincoln hall, there is the same door that I had just opened in a small square room. It is probably for tight

Many terrible plagues struck the Earth but there are three that hit the hardest. Smallpox, The Spanish Flu, and The Black Death are the three plagues. The are all the most dehumanizing ways to die, and they also killed the most people making the death tolls rise more than ever between 1340- 1979. These three plagues spread rather rapidly for many reasons but mainly because the people of these times majorly lacked hygiene. Religion, Upbringing, Culture, and Traditions had a huge impact on who received Smallpox, The Spanish Flu, and The Bubonic Plague, it also influenced how a persons body handled it.

Something about the way she was so confident. Not afraid to fall. Not afraid to crash. Things the younger me wasn’t able to relate to. She skated by with her violet colored helmet flashing in the corner of my eye. I jumped up, surprised by the sudden movement so close to me. Coming to a stop, she paused to relax her tense body and took a moment to catch her breath. Walking up to her, I introduced myself, eager to seem cool in front of a kid my age who was interesting. Her enthusiasm about meeting me encouraged me to try to befriend her. Attempting to contain her excitement, Jenna introduced me to her parents, immediately taking off outdoors.

Once upon a time there lived a lanky little rat named Rudy. Rudy’s fur was very dull and felt like needles. She lived in a tiny village where all the animals knew each other. Every afternoon she would meet with her friends at the riverbank to tell stories of their morning. One day Rudy scurried to the riverbank excited to share with her friends a cheesecake she had baked just for them, but when she arrived at the meeting spot, no one was there. Worried and confused, Rudy hurried in to town to look for her friends there. Just as she reached the main road, her body froze as she watched the most beautiful creature strolling through town. Rudy looked around and noticed she was not the only animal in the village mesmerized by this beautiful

I thought he was joking – until his bones started to crack and his head catapulted forward, steam rising from his body. His ocean blue turned a golden brown, and claws protruded from his hands and feet. Fur sprouted from every single pore on his body as a wolfish form took over him. “GO!” He yelled.

Peter slowly wiped his eyelids with his fingers. He looked onto the ground. His stomach belched as his brother’s shattered head lay embedded in the brown mud. The loss hit home,